


Stars In Eyes And Night Skies

by therogueheart



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Canon Divergence, Circus, Circus fam, Friends to Lovers, Intimacy, Kissing, M/M, No Anne/Phillip, No Charity/P.T, atmosphere, heavy kissing, silk dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-10-20 18:23:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20679887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therogueheart/pseuds/therogueheart
Summary: It seemed the only logical solution, the only presentable answer. Phineas had to be a star, bold and bright, somehow fallen to Earth. Stolen, perhaps. Impossible though it seemed, it had to be the only reasonable conclusion to the way Phineas' eyes would shine, how his smile alone could make Phillip feel as though he lived upon the sun."I didn't know you knew how to dance with silks".





	Stars In Eyes And Night Skies

It had taken Phillip a long time and many nights of deep thought to come to one sturdy conclusion. One state of what _had_ to be fact. There seemed to be no other logic, not with the sun still fierce in the skies above them at each dawn. 

Phineas had to be a star. One in the same as those that twinkled above him now, as though winking in conspiratorial agreement. He eyed them as he walked, squinting into the depths of the night. The longer he stared, the firmer his belief became that he had finally solved it. Sourced the radiant power that had drawn him in, like so many others. Even so, the more that he stared, the less he found they compared to the way that Phineas' eyes would glitter, the dazzling smiles shot between words, the blinding force of his presence when he swept along, Phillip all but helpless to be carried on the tide. 

Yes, he supposed. At the most basic, Phineas had to be a star. Fallen to Earth at a time he was lucky enough to have lived in. Or perhaps he had been stolen, pulled from that dark canvas. Phillip almost ached to write the play of it, phantom scenes hounding his daydreams as he strode the worn grass of the field. The big-top loomed before him, obnoxiously cutting off the majority of his stargazing. He'd have loathed it but for what it meant to him, what it afforded him. Echoes of performances prior whispered at his ears, a deep, velvety voice purring above the sound of the musicians. 

The performers were long tucked in their own quarters, exhausted after a week of performing and soaking in all the sleep they could get before the work of dismantling in the morning sapped their energy once more. The circus travelled these days - another of Barnum's genius proposals - from state to state for six of each twelve months, varying in rotation to allow for rest, holidays and avoidance of the weighted winters that so often came with thick blankets of snow these days. 

Anne was planning to travel over the winter months, loathsome now to leave the welcoming heat of the more tropical states they paid visit to. She had offered for him to join, showing him informational writings on each state she intended to visit, each town and lake and alehouse. Part of him had been tempted to go, to continue roaming. Yet like a ship he found himself anchored, unable and unwilling to leave despite holding the key to his chain. He was powerless but to orbit Phineas, and she had taken his excuse of needing to be around for the business with a wry smile, slapping at him with her hoop.

Anne had always seen through him, as clear as polished glass. It was perhaps why they were as close as they were, so content together that for the longest of times the troupe had presumed them courting. Anne had pretended to kiss him, cross-eyed and giggling so hard she had almost snorted when they were confronted, Phillip returning it with a grotesque and lewd mime of using his tongue. It was still a joke now, many asking when the kids would come and where they intended to settle in a gaudy, too-big house. 

Phillip loved her; of course he did. He had for the longest of months now, brought closer to her by the dramatics of the Burnam Museum/Circus burning to ashes and the subsequent re-building. But his heart belonged elsewhere and to whiskey eyes he had near drowned in that first night, fleeing the whispers of his critics on a stairwell platform in the cold, night air. Anne knew this - as she seemed to know everything, and played up the act to keep his longing a secret. Phillip was not ashamed of it, but fearful. He had never loved so truly before, and it terrified him. As did the deafening presumption that his love went unrequited. 

He tripped over a discarded bottle as he slowed his steps and uttered a silent curse, kicking it aside. Within the big-top he could see the flickering, gold cast of lamps and paused. It couldn't be Anne, for she had fallen asleep on his shoulder not an hour before, now carefully tucked under her covers and slumbering whilst he had stolen away into the darkness with his restless thoughts. W.D, perhaps? Or one of the others. He had half a mind to give them privacy, but curiosity out-won as it often did, and he strode on, silent and sneaking. 

The fabric was heavy, but it only served for a quiet entry, the weight too much for it to rustle and disturb as he slipped inside. It was warm here, as it always seemed to be, four lamps burning thick with oils and shredded paper. For a moment, Phillip saw only two drapes of creamy silk and the shape of a man, and he supposed that W.D must've snuck out much like he had, under the cover of night and everyone elses' snores. Except W.D was taller, and did not have the fluffy, ever-messy hair that seemed to glow in the sunset hues of the flames. 

It was _Phineas_. 

Many a performer did their thinking within the ring. There was something about it that seemed to control the flow of the thoughts, to amplify their depth. After learning the bare basics of air dancing and trapeze with Anne, Phillip found himself more often than not wound up in the ropes as he mused over business proceedings or the way that Phineas' eyes looked in afternoon sunlight. From lessons in actual dancing with Phineas, Phillip found the best way to cascade his thoughts was quick steps across the sawdust, lavish twists and timed spins that gave flight to his ideas. 

Phineas' brain was an ever moving thing. He didn't seem to need specifics nor space nor movement to spur his thoughts. It had never occurred to Phillip that perhaps he did, sometimes. That perhaps Phineas sometimes did seek moments as such to think, or to order the thoughts that plagued him. Phillip almost laughed at it, but he kept silent, gazing in wonder. 

Phineas was merely dangling, almost sat upon the air as he faced away from Phillip and the entry-way to the tent. One leg was bent, silk wrapped from thigh to ankle in a delicate series of spirals. The other wound from wrist to thigh, entwined with the other to support as Phineas' arms strained with his own weight, his body hovering elegantly in the air, one leg pointed down towards the ground, though he hovered a few foot above it. Phillip couldn't resist creeping closer, to the very edge of the ring, his gaze intent. It was of course, such as his luck dictated, that Phineas begun to list backwards, head tipping and body following. But when his arched form revealed his face to the flicker of the flames his eyes were shut, the expression peaceful, tranquil. 

Phillip was struck senseless by the sight of it, lips parting in a soundless exhale. Phineas looked serene, the corners of his mouth quirked upwards just so as he folded, sinking backwards with weight and silk until he dangled upside down, thighs tangled in sleek cream. An elegant, slow twist of his leg and the shift of weight had upside down going to sideways, as though the air was a solid bed, Phineas' arm coiling deftly around the fabric that his leg afforded him with the change. It was slow, lazy movement, but it held all the grace that Anne and W.D did with their perfected performances. 

Phineas lay in the air for a few breaths, head dropped to his own bicep, at peace with whatever took up his mind. Phillip knew that it was nearing the date wherein it would have been Phineas' and Charity's wedding anniversary, if they had not parted on gracious terms some year before, only a handful of months before Phineas enticed Phillip into abandoning all he knew and running full-tilt into the unknown. They had remained lovers in every way but romantic, the closest of friends, even when Charity had found love in a man named Michael. 

Phillip had thought them still together for a time, such was there closeness. Charity still called Phineas 'dear' and Phineas still held her by the hand as they toured the circus grounds, and all that had been tell to their divorce was that near the end of it, Phineas had poured her a sweet wine and asked in the most delighted of tones 'How is Michael, in any case? Did he find a jeweller to polish your wedding bands, after?'

Perhaps it was the date, looming ever closer. Perhaps it was the loss of one of their horses, just two weeks passed. She was a sweet thing, a little on the old side for travelling so much and bearing weight. She had been bedded in her train carriage as every night prior, warm under a cotton sheet and with a stomach full of oats. And laying there, peaceful as they had left her, was where they had found her in the morn. The town vet had been called, and after a brief inspection, declared her passed of old age, calm as you like in her sleep. 

Phineas had spent that day quiet, roaming restlessly between every other animal in their hoard. 

Whatever it was, the thoughts were not thundering and swift as they often were. The space between his brows was smooth, his breathing even when Phineas moved once more, righting himself with a graceful twist of his legs and curve of his spine. The man sank lower to the ground with fluidity, silks billowing like soft breaths around him. Phillip found himself tugged closer, as though the silks were wrapped around himself. The sawdust gave nothing but a sigh under his weight, dutiful in maintaining his secrecy. Phineas' feet were on the ground now and he spun once more, legs twisting one around the other, but still his eyes were closed, head tipped upwards towards the centre mast. 

Phineas moved a hair quicker now, letting up on his grip so that he swept towards the ground backwards, skimming it by the breadth of his shoulders. His heels pushed at the ground and Phineas twisted as he swept, an elegant flip that stole Phillips' breath from his lungs before he was upright once more, twisted artfully in silks like an ancient Venus painting. If he knew Phillip was there, he gave no indication, returning once more to idle, small movements. 

Did stars dance? 

Phillip stepped closer still, until Phineas was all but the stretch of his arm away. This close he could breathe in the scent of that man, the undertones of cinnamon and summer woods that seemed to cling to him, no matter where in America they went. Phineas was all but standing now, and it was easy for Phillip to reach out, tugging on silk to bring Phineas spinning on one heel. 

"I didn't know you knew how to dance with silks" he greeted, to the delighted astonishment on Phineas' face. The man had no trace of guilt or shy at being caught ad instead chuckled, head tipping back with the velvety sound. Phillip released the sleek material, but they had been brought close by his action and when Phineas slunk closer, moving around Phillip as though he were a pole, the silks whisped at his hips and shoulders. 

"Not many people do" Phineas confessed, amused and bright as he lifted a leg to hook silk, ducking past Phillip. "When I was younger, on my travels seeking the fortune i desired, I met many an exotic dancer and entertainer. Much of my skill I learned in passing. I was considered mighty queer down on the docks, throwing myself about with the ship ropes. Before I worked for the ship yard, I found money enough for bread and ale by working with the circus that had taken hold near the docks. It was modest, small. But they had a trapeze artist there. She knew silk dancing, and taught me here and there. Some I figured myself, from my own performances. I am nothing like Anne and her elegance, but I can manage the odd twist without chewing sawdust" Phineas regaled, emerging from behind Phillip with another of those dazzling smiles. 

"A showman and his secrets" Phillip teased, meaning to move from the way of Phineas' silks, but the man caught him unawares as he was so talented at. Phineas kicked at a silk and sent it sweeping around Phillips' calf, snagging him there as he caught its tail with his own leg, entangling them together. Phillip was not dressed for such a thing, but he gripped the silk with a hand anyway, assisting the way that Phineas flicked the second trail around his hips. 

They begun to spin idly, sharing the fabrics with delicate, simple trade-offs and movements. It was relaxing, calm. Phillip felt as though a bubble had formed around them, sealing them inside a perfect, private little world of their own. "An ego such as yours, though" Phillip begun, twisting gracefully with the silk that Phineas pulled across his hip, leg hitching over the sleekness between his thigh, reaching around the older man in their little figure-of-eight work. 

"Surely you're tempted, at the least? Think how the crowds would roar, if you begun to spin over their heads like a baby's cradle-dial?" Phillip jested, though he did not pry. Phineas kept few secrets and nothing at all of shame. His expression did not change from gentle mirth and happiness even at Phillip's words, eyes rolling lightly and tugging upon silk, twisting so that Phillip was brought forwards, passing Phineas. They moved side by side in graceful steps, facing opposite directions. 

"I suppose nobody has ever thought to ask. A showman I might be, but perhaps here and there it is nice to be asked, for parts of your life to be requested, as opposed to presented at your own whim" Phineas shrugged, the movement jostling Phillip's shoulder. Phineas' leg nudged his own and Phillip moved against it, twirling them amongst the flickers of the lamps, the duo stepping aside and around each other as they moved. Phillip noted with fire in his lungs that Phineas never moved far, never pushed him away. 

"Who would know to _ask_, though? What great mind in our midst would think to ask 'Say, Barnum? You don't happen to sneak out in the night to wrap yourself in silks like a high class dame, would you?". Phineas laughed at that, slipping silk through and around Phillip's leg and side before he tugged them, sending Phillip stumbling forwards. _Closer_. 

Phillip couldn't resist himself. The opportunity was there, in the way the silk swathed Phineas' chest, caught between those powerful thighs. It took only the sink of his weight to send Phineas upwards, lifting from the ground smoothly. Phineas' brows climbed, but he lost no sense of his elegance, artfully manipulating the movement in order to twirl lightly, descending the fabric. He was around Phillip the moment he landed, wrapping him in the cream softness and spinning him. 

"Are you jealous, Phillip?" The man teased back, smile wide and eyes alight as they moved. Phillip ducked the cascade of silk, pulling and wrapping and dancing until Phineas was entwined in all manner of ways and places. He wrapped himself in what remained, focused on the pattern. Anne had taught him this, and he had yet to try it as a full, smooth movement. But when he leaned away, weight sinking, it worked. Phineas was brought several paces forwards, silk fluttering free around them as Phineas continued onwards, balance catching and body tipping. 

The silks pulled caught with Phillip's weight before the man could hit the floor, dangling between Phillip's thigh, the silk and the sawdust with a look of surprised mirth. Phillip leaned above him, flushed and grinning. "Do I seem it?" He questioned, voice soft and mocking. Phineas responded with an expert lick of fabric, coils of it shifting until Phillip was drawn down as he was drawn up. Phineas' arm curled low at his waist, a thrilling and solid touch as Phillip fell downwards, swept suddenly sideways and up, until Phineas ended up holding him as though one might dip a lady when dancing. The man shot him a lewd wink. 

It occurred to Phillip that he was suddenly the feminine one of the scenario and he shifted, pressing. To his delight, Phineas bent with no argument, watching him with a fond hint of amusement as Phillip entwined their legs and the silks and heaved. His own muscles strained at it, but both of them were lifted, surging upwards with speed but twirling around each other with a laziness as they came back towards the ground. Phineas looked positively _delighted_, even though Phillip was a head above him. They stepped slow circles around each other as they landed, arms almost entwined, manipulating the dangling silks. 

"No. You seem content" Phineas answered earnestly, head tilting as he moved, tripping Phillip with a silk and rolling him across his thigh, wrapping him in the fabric that billowed at the movement and bringing him back up. The thick muscle against Phillip's side had his spine tingling, lips parting on a breath once more, though he tried to hide it behind fine-woven cream. He thought back to that night at the bar, to Phineas leaping with such an artful elegance around the place. How he drew in and gave when Phillip responded. 

Would he be the same as a lover? Would he relent as much as he pressed? Would he bow so, without argument, as he did now? His rashness had been tamed somewhat, after the dramatics of the previous months. Each tamed moment at Phillip's hand, like a beast calmed by comfort. It made Phillip itchy to test it, eyes glued to the glimmering brown of Phineas' own. Would he kiss like that, he wondered?

"Room for another, in your thoughts?" Phineas' voice broke through the haze of his pondering. Phillip could only smile, shifting to steal the silks and to lean back, before he let the weights pull him above Phineas' head. He let himself roll in the air, obtaining his legs within the silk until he dangled upside down, gazing across at Phineas, was merely moved closer, hands hovering in the air an inch from his head, as though to cradle him. His arms strained with the effort, and it gave him a particular head rush to linger at such an angle. 

"So arrogant. You always have to be in everyones' heads" Phillip jested back, to a burst of laughter from his peer. They had come to an understanding, in the time they had known each other. Phillip was a stream of insults and creative curses, and he meant absolutely none of them. But Phineas would laugh at each one and respond in kind. The blood to his head flushed his cheeks an after a moment, Phillip unfurled like a flower in the morning, lowering himself back down to the ground. 

"I was thinking about you" he responded honestly, letting go of one silk and roaming a slow, wide circle around Phineas. The man cast him a curious gaze, repeating the action in the opposite direction with the other. They moved idly, not at any determined pace, and Phillip allowed the moment to linger for a short while before he continued. "Yes, I'll admit it. I was thinking of how infuriating you are. How I often wish to punch you in your perfect, stupid teeth. How sometimes, at certain angles you have a second chin" he mused teasingly, and Phineas caught on, scoffing loudly. 

"Oh, ha-_ha_. Philip Carlyle, a comedian. Perhaps you ought to take to the stage" Phineas sent back. Phillip found himself tossing his head back with a laugh as he reached up, stretching one arm straight above to wrap it within the silk, grasping with the other. A light push with his leg sent him sailing over the sawdust, gliding past Phineas, who twisted on the spot to watch him, gaze alight. Phineas copied him, with a greater sense of strength, and they floated gentle circles around each other. Phillip longed to see what Phineas would look like, _really_ in the air. He knew the Ringmaster was flexible, even for a fellow in his early forties. 

"I have already taken a stage, Phin. Or is your eyesight failing in your old age? I'm oft right besides you, you know. Perhaps you ought to retire. I hear that gardening is the 'in' thing with the older folk, these days" Phillip continued, and Phineas gave him a look of mock horror, elegantly twisting in mid air to bring them closer, until they were no longer sailing in arcs around each other, but twisting closer and closer still, not unlike how he had first danced with Anne, when helping her to practice for her performance 'Rewrite the Stars'. 

"Mr. Carlyle, you have a man with a snake's tongue. My fragile heart may never recover its joy" Phineas informed with faux seriousness, and Phillip rolled his eyes even as he moved, grasping Phineas' silk to prevent him from gravitating further away. He scoffed lightly, a mimic of Phineas' earlier reaction, and shifted, allowing his body to extend along the air so that he could hook a leg around Phineas' thigh. 

"Oh, please. Your heart has enough joy to light the world for years to come, Mr. Barnum. In fact, it had crossed my mind that perhaps you were-" Phillip almost fell from his silk, eyes widening. He had almost told Phineas he thought he was a star, and that...Would not do. At all. For one, his ego was insufferable as it was. But even as Phillip tried to claw the words back, he could see the words had been trapped in Phineas' mind, the brown gaze turning inquisitive and delighted. There was no way to back out of this, concluded when Phineas nudged them to a halt, sliding into the sawdust heel first. 

"Perhaps I was what, Phillip?" Phineas asked, tone light as he idly kept hold of his silk, lifting one leg to hook it around the soft material. He begun to spin slowly on his heel, twirling like those mechanical ballerina in children's music boxes. Phillip snorted at the likeness, but clung to his own silk like a lifeline. Christ. Phineas would not let this go, that he knew. The man would be on his death bed and would croak out on his last, weak breath; 'Phillip, what did you say I was'? 

Was this a matter of pride? A sake of face? Was it not awfully queer, to consider your _business_ partner and male friend a star?

Then again, was it not awfully queer to silk dance with him under the moonlight? 

Phineas _had_ to know. He had to. Phillip had never been militarian about hiding his desires, though he was just the right amount of subtle that nobody who wasn't actively looking for it would notice. When he circled the higher class, he had been discreet about it. Eagle-eyed for any sign that the man who'd caught his eye shared similar tastes. Sneaking off at separate times to meet in some closed off alley or their private house. He had less privacy in the circus, and found himself more at ease, a hairs width more...Relaxed about his preferences. 

He found he felt less shame, watching the sweat-slick muscles of the circus men rippling under the tent lights. Found he was more bold about his stares, his subtle words and approaches. More often than not, he found them reciprocated. Was it so, that people of his..._Preference_ felt the same draw to the oddities? To the life? When he drew himself from his thoughts he found Phineas gazing at him in amusement, lounging idly with hi cheek tucked into the silk. He looked soft, touchable. His hair mussed and his shirt rumpled, a little off-set on his shoulders. 

"I considered the likelihood that you were, perhaps, not of his world" he settled on, spitting the words out as though he were sucking on a lemon. Phineas only cocked his head further, a broad and insufferable grin stretching his mouth. Phillip immediately wanted to smack it away.

"Why, Mr. Carlyle. You would think after a year with the circus, you would be at home amongst the alien and the other-worldly" Phhineas grinned, and Phillip stooped to scoop a handful of sawdust, before throwing it at him. Phineas sputtered, but dusted himself off with a grin as wide as before. 

"Is anything not a joke to you, Phin?" He asked, and was astounded at how...Disappointed his tone presented. It seemed to startle Phineas too, who paused in shaking off his shirt to eye him curiously. It seemed to occur to the Ringmaster then that at midnight, in the midst of a circus tent, he was not alone, that Phillip had come to seek solace or thought too. 

"Phillip" the older man murmured, letting go of the silk to step gracefully across the space between them, reaching for Phillip to lay a hand at his shoulder. Phillip did not flinch, as he had expected his own body to do, but rather leaned into the touch with a soft, belated sigh, his head lowering to hide between a flutter of cream. _Did_ Phineas know, though? He had never brought it up. Had merely laughed whenever someone joked that Phillip looked to Phineas as though he had painted the moon into the sky. Like a child staring at their idol. Phillip flushed and protested at each time, and Phineas would only ever swoon or joke, but...

"I have never seen you so deep in your thoughts, Phillip. Usually it is you, standing around whilst I delve the depths of my mind". Phineas spoke softly, and when Phillip lifted his gaze again, there was no amusement, only gentle concern as his thumb pressed into the sharp dip of Phillip's collarbone, rubbing soothingly at the pale skin through his shirt. Phillip found himself giving a wry smile, for it was true. Phineas was so oft lost in his own mind that most of their daily interactions were Phillip dragging him back into the present. 

"Forgive me. Its a...Difficult time to be inside my head" Phillip excused himself quietly, though he could not bring himself to move away from Phineas' hold. There was a heavy pause, and then suddenly Phillip was being jerked forwards, towards Phineas' body. He let out a breath as his leg caught in the silk it still wore, and he gripped at Phineas' shirt as he jolted, moving quicker than he could catch himself. Phineas was forced to step backwards under his weight, grasping for a silk that fluttered away from his flailing grip. 

Phillip knew by heart that although it was a softer landing than hard wood, the sawdust of the arena was only _slightly_ more forgiving. He braced himself for it, eyes squeezing shut and breath pausing. His fall, however, was broken by Phineas, the two of them sprawling inelegantly with a _poof_ of dust. Phineas' breath was punched from his chest with an oof sound, and Philip returned it in kind as he sprawled over the man like an ungainly blanket. 

The silks fluttered around them as Phillip pushed himself to his elbows, lifting his head from where it had fallen to Phineas' sternum, cradled deftly by the man with one hand. His knee throbbed where it had fallen to the dust, and his cheek ached where he was sure he had hit himself in the face grasping around. He opened his mouth to apologise when beneath him, Phineas begun to shake. At first, Phillip thought the man so injured he'd begun to cry, but then the deep laughter reached his ears, and he looked down in disbelief. 

Phineas was laughing. Again. 

Propped above him, Phillip stared blatantly as Phineas lay draped across the sawdust, shoulder shaking with laughter, tawny dirt in his hair. Phillip found himself subconsciously leaning down, only aware of it when Phineas opened his eyes and they were suddenly _right there_. Close enough for Phillip to see the defiant flecks of blue amidst the dark honey. Phineas' laughter dulled to a gentle hum, and Phillip was instantly aware of the man's hands at his side, resting firmly in the dip of his waist. 

"If you wished for a hug, Phillip, you had only to ask" Phineas teased, and Phillip rolled his eyes, grasping a fist of sawdust and raising it to toss at the man. Phineas caught his wrist in a tight grip, however, thumb applying pressure just so at the wrist to have his hand falling apart. Phillip#s mouth fell open as he stared, and Phineas' head tilted, grinning up at him. The actions sent a tingle down Phillip's spine like he had touched an electrical wire and his body shuddered with it. How strong Phineas' grip was. The feel of the man beneath him, like the power of a horse between his thighs. 

"Perhaps it was merely my intent to tackle you and beat you to death" he managed shakily, and Phineas was laughing again, relaxing back into the dust, eyes falling shut. Phillip stared in wonder. 

A star. 

"A star" he blurted, and then cringed. Good Christ. His mouth had less a rein of itself than Phineas'. And that was a remarkable thing. 

"A star?" The man repeated, his eyes opening with a curious tint as he gazed up at his friend. Phillip's throat was so tight that for a moment, he couldn't bring himself to speak. There was no going back, now. And he had no idea of how to word it, so it did not sound so queer as it was meant in his mind. Though...Phineas often spoke queer words, but in a way that made them seem no more than heartfelt compliment to his family. 

"I...Figured that ought to be why you enjoy being the centre of attention. How you never seem to run out of energy" he grit out, attempting to sound as bland with it as he could. Phineas' head just tipped further in the sawdust, a soft, rather dopey smile taking over his face. Phillip wanted to kiss it away. 

"You know...You can be nice to me. I promise, your tongue will not fall from your mouth" Phineas coaxed gently, and Phillip scoffed, shifting to dig his elbow into Phineas' side. He reminded himself with the action that they were still sprawled like a layered cake, bodies slotted neatly together. He tried hard not to think about how _right_ they felt against each other, how comfortable and warm it was. 

"As if your ego needs fanning as it is, Phin. Your head will get so big we would need a bigger tent". Beneath him, Phineas' eyes took a sudden shine. It was not unlike the way Phillip had seen the lions eyeing a hunk of cow cut, before a leg hooked between his own and Phineas' arm came around his waist in an embrace, before his world spun as though he were on a ferris wheel. He found himself beneath Phineas, falling back against the dirt with a gasp as they switched places. 

"That was _rude_, Phillip. Have you no manners?" Phineas was murmuring, but Phillip's mind was lost to the way the dim spread of the lanterns lit Phineas' hair like a halo. The soft way that he looked, hovering above him. The pleasant sensation of Phineas' body, draped over his own, pinning him to the dirt, an arm still laced around him. Phillip's mind was reacting quicker than he could stop it, and he found himself sucking in a fortifying breath. 

"You must forgive me of this, Phin. But if I don't, I will regret it to my deathbed" he murmured, before moving his hands from Phineas' chest, reaching up to bury his fingers in that soft, dark hair to drag Phineas down. He closed his eyes, so as not to see the disgust on Phineas' face, but the man bent easily to his grip, until Phillip was against his mouth, firm and pressing all that he could not say into the act. 

For an entire moment, it seemed as though reality had ceased to exist. It was nothing but Phineas' weight, the stillness of his breath, the slight scratch of two-day stubble against the corner of his mouth. His stomach churned and he breathed out against the warmth of Phineas' mouth, cringing as he begun to pull away. He had no idea of where to go, from this moment. No doubt Phineas would immediately demand that he left. But...Where would he go? Not home, for certain. This _was_ home. 

But then Phineas was shifting against him, weight drawing back just a fraction, enough for his hold to tighten around him. So much strength in the action that it lifted Phillip off the ground, Phineas' other hand cradling his head as he pressed back against Phillip's mouth with a soft, deep sound of approval. It was all Phillip could do to cling to him, gasping as one arm fell to around his shoulders, dangling in Phineas' strong grip. They were forced to part after a moment, chests heaving as though they had run a quarter mile. 

"Well. If that is you being _nice_..." Phineas murmured, and Phillip groaned, letting his head fall back as he closed his eyes to Phineas' chuckles. 

"Insufferable. Ineffable. The worst" he lamented, and Phineas was still chuckling even as he bent down again, the vibrations warming Phillip's mouth. He found himself clutching at the man again, fingers curling in his shirt, body pressing closer as for a moment, they merely savoured the sensation. And then Phineas' mouth was moving, and all the strength left them both, falling down against the sawdust as they kissed. Phillip supposed this is what women wrote about in their romance novellas. That magical moment of the first kiss. 

He had never believed it before. Kissing had been pleasant, but just that. Skin on skin, the knowledge of the act more than the sensation. Kissing Phineas, however...His body felt as alight as the lanterns. He was hyperaware of everywhere they touched, every movement. He sank into it with a groan, unable to resist opening his mouth in return, following the lazy, leading movements of his friend. The soft sounds of their lips parting filling the stillness of the tent. He ought not to, but his body was beyond listening to reason, and he tipped his head back, allowing his tongue to slide the length of Phineas' lower lip. 

The man surged against him, weight dropping down as he returned it in kind with a deep sound that vibrated low within his chest, squeezing Phillip tighter as he licked at his mouth, tongue dipping into one corner before dancing across his lip. It was all Phillip could do to whimper, his mind gone to the night as he pressed back. He moved too soon, their tongues pressing together briefly and his breathing stuttered, fingers flexing against Phineas' shirt. 

"Phil - _Phillip_. I fear...I f-fear if we do not stop, we might render the floor useless for the 'morrow" Phineas managed, and it was a pure delight to hear the man struggling for words, for once in his life. He wanted to shake his head, like a stubborn child. Refused for a brief moment, reaching back up to Phineas' hair to tug heavily, deepening the kiss until they were licking at each other like starving animals. He was lost for breath by the time Phineas planted a hand against the floor and pushed away, lips dark and swollen. H did not go far, however, hovering above Phillip with a look of absolute hunger. 

"How long, Phillip? How long have you denied yourself this?" The man asked, when he seemed able to breathe at pace once more. Phillip fell lax against the sawdust, turning his head to look away. This? Phineas, or men in general? Did Phineas not know his preferences? Or that Phillip had looked to him with desire? 

""Alright, then. I shall go first. I thought you beautiful the moment I set my eyes on you, at the dinner. I saw not only a man I could help, but...My own selfish desires. And I fear, they only grew. Even if you are pompous and a pest". Phillip's head snapped back to Phineas, who was grinning like a man who had just tricked the world of its wealth. He scoffed and slapped at his chest firmly, scowling. 

"Too much exposure to you, then" he shot back snidely, and Phineas was yet again laughing as he ducked down to kiss him breathless once more. 


End file.
